Chapter 5
Rotten Tooth
The wind whistled past cold and harsh, yet curved to avoid the fairy, as if brushing against her was a violation of some unwritten rule. Cotton looked at her order for the night. "Let's see," she whispered to herself, "one tooth from…" Her back slouched as she read the name on the white sheet of paper. "Captain James Bartholomew Hook of the Jolly Roger."
The name came accompanied with the long chinned, big nosed portrait of the man who apparently was Captain James Bartholomew Hook. Underneath that, a sketch of the pirate ship that must have been labelled the Jolly Roger. Destination: Neverland.
High up in the sky, among the dark clouds, Cotton felt complete seclusion for the first time in a while. Moments of peace and quiet were few and far between in Ivory City; work, work, work all through the night, and by daybreak the only thing a tooth pixie wants to do is sleep. She was almost out of vacation days; twenty-one does not feel like enough.
Cotton sighed, her arms went limp by her sides. "And in Neverland of all places. Funny, first my brother gets pirates in Neverland and now I get pirates in Neverland." She rolled up the page and stuffed it into her satchel. "Oh well, complaining about it isn't going to help. No rest for the wicked, except when they sleep. I might even meet him there, if we're lucky."
With a thrust, Cotton dashed down, through the cloud she was standing on, and into the open air. The never-ending Neversea greeted her thousands of feet below, endlessly waving like a pattern in a bedsheet. All around in every direction was the same – nothing but water for miles, no land in sight. Cotton pulled a compass from her bag, examined it for a minute, put it back, and then set a course for Neverland. The trip was shorter than expected. Cotton started slow, building up momentum. Tooth pixies were capable of tremendous speeds; nothing but the best to reach all those needy kids with fresh gaps in their gums, and the occasional adult. She shot toward the island, rocketing in a dazzle of dust and sparkles. Any curious, outsider eyes just happening to be gazing outside, or peering into the night sky with their telescopes, would easily mistake her for a shooting star.
It did not take long until the pixie had reached her destination. Neverland stood still and lifeless in the dark, yet was very much alive. Cotton had been there once or twice before, maybe even seen it on a postcard, but never really liked the island that much. Cotton could make out the snow-peaked mountain in the centre, the volcano, the skull-shaped rock, the lagoon on the side, but not the ship called the Jolly Roger.
Cotton scratched her head of white hair and hummed thoughtfully. "If I were a pirate ship, where would I be?" She snapped her fingers. "Of course, in the water! I'll just search around the island and I should find it."
And so, Cotton did just that. Starting from the large lagoon – Mermaid Lagoon, if she remembered correctly – she scoured the corners of the island, moving in a clockwise fashion. She searched high and searched low, but mainly just low. Cotton skimmed across the rock face on the western side. Over the chilly northern regions, and then around the giant skull at the east. Darting around, she looked like any other ordinary pixie. That disguise served her well.
Cotton spotted a ship – unmistakable in shape – still on the water, away from the island. She fluttered high above it, getting a good look. She reached for the paper and looked back and forth between that ship and the one right in front of her. Perfect match. The fairy placed the paper away and rubbed her hands together. "This is where the magic happens," she whispered, then converged on the Jolly Roger.
The deck was deserted, and why would it not be? The planks and ropes groaned and gurgled against the gentle rocking of the sea. This was how Cotton liked her pirates, out of the way. No crude shanties. No foul language. No drunken rambling. No bad breath. No flying daggers. No gunshots. No swinging sabres. Just quiet slumber. The only time a pirate was ever at peace, the only way Cotton could ever, ever approach them.
The bandits who looked after this ship must have cared for it a bunch, Cotton could see her own reflection in the floor. A grate lay in the middle of the deck. Peeking through, the inside was dark and the air was thick and smelled bad. Three pirates snored in three hammocks, two fat and one skinny.
"Now, if I were a captain, where would I sleep?" Cotton whispered. She pulled herself up and slapped her forehead. "Of course, the captain's cabin, duh."
She eyed the lone door at the end of the deck, leading to the compartment at the back of the ship. No captain should ever have to climb to reach their bed, oh no. They were too privileged for that, with their fancy coats and those big hats. Cotton fluttered to the lock under the handle. No need to search for an opening, she had been through this procedure hundreds of times. Reaching into her all-holding bag once more, she pulled out a scroll and unravelled it. On the silky, white paper were two words, written with soft, black writing.
Cotton read the first word: "Shrink." And just like that, she shrunk into the size of a pea, everything including her bag.
The keyhole grew until it was the size of a cavern. The mechanics inside were heavy with rust and stank strongly of oil and bronze. The sparse light at the other end guided her through the pins. Upon exiting the other side, Cotton glanced at the scroll and read the second word beneath the first: "Grow."
Back to her regular size, the job was to be complete. Cotton had heard, or maybe thought, that captain's cabins were supposed to be luxurious, but the one that lay before her was far from it, bare bones at best. A bare desk, bare table, bare shelfs, no riches to speak of. In the end, however, Cotton was not there to judge the interior decoration, she was there to do a job.
Captain James Bartholomew Hook lay in the bed, snug under sheets, a pirate-y teddy bear against his cheek. Cotton instantly recognised him from the order sheet, even with his hat off and that sleep mask on. One hand real, bone and flesh, the other fake, forged from steel. Cotton wondered how Hook could get by with a contraption like that for a hand and not hurt himself on a regular basis. She has poked herself in the eye on several occasions. Hook's sheets looked clean, as clean as a pirate could achieve. His pillow showed all the tell-tale signs of being recently plumped with fresh feathers. After collecting as many teeth as Cotton, any fairy would notice the little things.
The tooth pixie glided down, landing as silent as a snowflake beside Hook's pillow. Finding the client was the first step, and now came the tricky part. It was moments like these, being at this proximity that either made or broke a tooth pixie. She was close enough to hear his nose whistling, she was close enough to smell his aftershave – any noise now would be disastrous.
Cotton gripped the edge of the pillow and pulled it up. She slithered underneath and found the hard lump of the lost tooth. Odd. This tooth looked a little different. Sure, pirates had some awful teeth in their gobs, but this was unlike anything she had seen. Long and pointy, like it belonged more to some ferocious beast than a human being. Cotton shrugged. A tooth is a tooth. She pulled a gold doubloon from her bag, and then she grabbed and pulled the tooth, but it was snagged on something. Cotton realised that there was a piece of string tied around it. She untied it. Upon doing so, she though she heard the faint ring of a bell.
All of a sudden, the pillow was pulled up from over her. A coarse hand grabbed her before she could react.
Captain Hook yanked off his sleep mask and gazed at the fairy with dark, alert eyes. "A-ha," he cackled, delighted, "I knew it! Tooth Pixies are real, and I've got one!"
Cotton struggled in his grasp, unable to escape, feeling her skeleton being crushed in dust. "What in tarnation?" she chocked. Hook slipped off his bed and walked toward the desk, toward a glass lantern. He opened the glass flap with his hook, chucked the white fairy inside, and shut it behind her. "Well, I didn't see this coming…"
"Make yourself comfortable in there, little fairy," Hook said, feeling a smug sense of superiority take over. The glow of the doubloon pulled the captain back to his bed. He picked up the coin and took a bite, testing its authenticity. He chuckled some more. "Gold! Real gold! The stories were true, and you've got more of these back in your kingdom, I wager. You're going to take me to your magical kingdom, and you're going to show me where you keep all of those golden doubloons."
Cotton sat on the lantern floor, crossing her arms and legs. "You should just save yourself the trouble and let me go right now, or you'll be sorry, mister."
"Oh, believe me," Hook retorted, "You've been enough trouble as it is, but trust me when I say that it'll all be worth it, because you're going to make me rich." Hook's expression suddenly switched from proud to stern. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've some lazy bones to rouse, and I must look my best for this tremendous occasion. We will set sail for your kingdom as soon as possible, so be a good little pixie and don't go anywhere."
Captain Hook turned to leave, but suddenly remembered the time when he caught Tinker Bell in that exact same lantern. The blasted fairy knocked it over, smashed the glass, and escaped. Captain Hook turned back, determined to make sure a repeat incident did not happen. He scrounged up a few objects from nearby – a couple of books, a paperweight, a candle stand, and an inkwell – and budged them around the outside of the lantern.
"There," Hook said, "that should extinguish any ideas you had on escaping."
He watched the fairy for a few seconds more. She remained sat there, looking back with those blue eyes, unfazed by it all. How could the Terror of Neverland not even get the pixies to feel afraid? Hook disregarded her and went for the door, swinging it open and slamming it shut behind himself.
A minute, that's all Cotton needed. Now was the time to act. She reached into her bag – thank goodness Hook did not take it – hunted around, and pulled out a circular glass cutter. As stated in rule 4368 of The Ninety-Nine-Hundred Rules on being a Tooth Pixie guidebook: a tooth pixie should never go anywhere without one. It was there, written between rule 4367: umbrellas are optional, but recommended – colours limited to white, blue, and/or orange; and rule 4369: true tooth pixie-ing means never having to say you're sorry.
Cotton pressed the suction cup against the glass as he heard the captain's footsteps drum against the wood, followed by yelling. With the cup in place, Cotton pushed the sharp end into the glass's surface and began to slice it around. The diamond tip cut through, leaving a thin, white trail in its wake. The drumming of not one, but four pairs of steps shuffled down below before moving upward. Cotton needed to hurry. She finished a full revolution, leaving a circle wide enough for her to escape through.
"Now," Cotton affirmed to herself, "to dislodge it with a soft tap…" She closed her hand into a fist and tapped it against the glass.
Crash!
The entire pane shattered into a thousand pieces, leaving the circular piece intact, stuck to the suction cup.
"Okay," Cotton said, "that tap was too soft…"
"What in blazes?" Hook's distinct tone rumbled from behind the door. The entrance burst open. The cranky captain and his three cronies ran in to find the glass containing the pixie gone. "Quickly," Hook ordered, "nab that fairy!"
Sharky and Bones charged at the white pixie. Cotton dropped the glass cutter and zoomed out as they leapt at her, missing and crashing into the desk, sending it onto its back. The objects on top fell to the floor, cracking and breaking.
"Clumsy oafs…" muttered Hook as he shut the door behind himself, leaving the pixie trapped inside with the four swashbucklers. He retrieved his net hook and clicked it into place on his left wrist. "Mr Smee, seize her."
Mr Smee reached up with his flabby arms. "Come here, little pixie," he said as if he were summoning a cat. "Come to good ol' Mr Smee."
Cotton watched as the first mate approached prudently. She zipped down, straight into his face. In one swift motion, she grabbed his glasses and yanked them off his nose. Smee's vision went hazy.
"Oh dear, my glasses!" He charged forward, toward the giggling white dot in front. "I can't see without my glasses." Blindly, he ran forward and ended up tumbling into Sharky and Bones, knocking them all down once more.
Cotton laughed. Silly pirates. However, that mood did not last long as Captain Hook came at her, swinging the net wildly. Cotton flew over a swipe and flew across the cabin. Hook gave chase, refusing to stop. His nightcap fell off his head. He jumped onto his bed, ruffling his sheets. He knocked some of his hooks off the shelf.
"Get back here, you infernal insect," Hook yelled, swinging the net like crazy.
Cotton tossed down Smee's glasses and they landed on Hook's large nose. Now it was his turn to experience a world of haze. Cotton flew to the side. Hook kept going straight, swinging at empty air, and slammed straight into a wall. As straight as a domino piece, he tumbled down, his nose flat on his face.
The tooth pixie flew back to the door. She reached into her bag, pulled out the size changing scroll and spoke the first word, shrinking herself down. Zooming back through the keyhole, Cotton heard the scurrying behind her. She reached outside and turned back to normal size. It was a straight shot out, any direction would do. She fluttered up and away as the door burst open.
Captain Hook barged out onto the deck, the wood cold and rough against the soles of his feet. In his free hand was his fishing rod hook, nabbed straight off the shelf, no time to attach it. He caught sight of the white aura flying across the water. He reeled the rod back and then let it rip, sending the fishing hook soaring toward the bright target.
Suddenly, something snagged on Cotton's shoulder, bringing her to a stop. Turning back, there was a fishing hook latched onto her satchel, attached to a fishing rod being held by Captain Hook.
"Help me reel it in, boys," Hook said. Smee, Sharky, and Bones huddled around and aided in coiling in the fishing hook.
Cotton pulled with all her might, but the four pirates were bigger and stronger than her. She could ditch the bag, but only if rule 290 of the guidebook did not exist – which it did. Inch by inch, she was dragged closer to the pirate ship, and to the horrid fate that awaited her in the mind of that diabolical captain.
She was close now. At the last moment, she managed to unhook her bag and make a break for it, across the deck and out over the waters. Captain Hook lunged forward and leaned from the edge of the railing. He swung the net and caught the pixie.
"Gotcha," Hook exclaimed through gritted teeth as his crew took hold of his legs, stopping him from plunging into the freezing sea. With heavy breaths and the sweat on their backs, they pulled their captain back onto dry flooring.
Hook tied a knot at the top, securing the pixie inside. Cotton struggled inside the net. All her pulling and pushing only made everything more tangled. The scroll! She went to reach for her satchel when, suddenly, Captain Hook reached through the fibres and yanked it away, rendering Cotton powerless.
"No," Cotton cried, "my bag! Commander Lilly's gonna kill me."
"You're not going anywhere this time," Hook said, dangling the satchel out of reach. He held the pixie out for the rest to see. "Behold, gentlemen, a tooth pixie."
The crew caught their breaths. They stared in awe at the pixie with skin, hair, and clothes as white as fresh snow. Never before had they seen such a sight. They thought the Tooth Pixies as merely a myth, and now they had been proven wrong.
"Why, hello there, madam," Mr Smee said pleasantly, forgetting the incident that happened only a minute ago. "Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger. Our Cap'n, you are already familiar with. I'm his first mate, Mr Smee, and these are Sharky and Bones."
Bones looked overjoyed. "I've always wanted to meets me a tooth pixie. I so do love that tale, me do."
Sharky tipped his hat. "Pleasure to make ye acquaintance, Miss… who might you be?"
"Cotton…" she answered.
Bones' joy continued to rise. "And she's got a cuddly name too. That be so…"
"Yes, yes, how fascinating, but that's not important. What's important is that this fairy," Hook hissed, "is going to tell us where her home is, and make me the richest pirate in the world."
"You're wasting your bad breath," Cotton said defiantly. "I'll never tell."
Captain Hook drew a devious grin across his thin lips. "We shall see about that. I have ways of making you talk." He carried Cotton over to the railing and dangled her over the side. "Tell me where your kingdom is or you'll be swimming with the mermaids."
To the best of Hook's knowledge, this threat worked on every pixie. The tooth pixie, however, nary batted an eye. She looked back at the cranky captain and yawned, completely unafraid. Hook grumbled, his smile faded, as he pulled Cotton back over the deck. No point wasting time and effort on things that would not yield results. He wanted the tooth pixie kingdom location now, his patience was at an end.
"What is a fairy without its wings?" Hook reached through and pinched one of her wings between his thumb and index. "If you cherish them so much, you'll talk."
Again, Cotton stood there, unfazed by any of it. Even with the coarse fingers on her wing, she showed no fear.
Captain Hook let go and wracked his brain for different solutions. "How do you like the sound of eating sand and drinking sea water? I'll leave you out in the hot sun all day and night! I'll strand you on a desert island and watch as you shrivel like a prune! Then we'll see just how fearless you are then."
Nothing. Cotton inspected her nails. "Is this going to take long?" she retorted. "I've got a hair appointment in a couple of hours."
Hook's featured flushed red. He stomped on the wooden floor, letting out all his frustration on the Jolly Roger, his pride and joy. The rest of the crew watched from nearby. This sort of behaviour was typical of their captain.
"Methinks you better try something different, sir?" Bones said. "I'm just saying…"
Hook kept his glare focused on the rebellious pixie. He was as red as a lobster, but she was still as white as a ghost. She needed to have some kind of weak point, something that struck fear deep into her heart, maybe something universal for her particular brand of pixies. Well, she was a tooth pixie. She collected teeth…
It struck as sudden as lightning. Captain James Hook knew exactly what to do.
"How would you like," Hook asked slowly, "a nice cup of tea?"
"Tea?" Cotton echoed, raising an eyebrow. She could not help but wonder where this unexpected pleasantness stemmed from. "It's a little unexpected, but, sure, why not?"
Captain Hook smiled warmly, his anger subsided. "Splendid! Sharky, Bones," he said, "bring a table and stool onto the deck." As instructed, the two made haste down into the bowels of the ship and came back with Sharky carrying a table and Bones with the stool. They set them down beside their superior, who immediately took a seat, detached the net from his wrist, and set Cotton down at the other end of the table. "Smee, fetch me the tea supplies. All of it."
"Right away, Cap'n." Smee went away and returned with a tea tray, stacked with everything a good cuppa required.
Hook retained his smile on Cotton as the tray clanked beside them. After attaching his default hook, he reached over with his real hand and grabbed the empty cup, setting it down between them. Next was the kettle; draped with a cosy, full of water boiled with some of his mother's tea leaves. He filled the cup to the brim with steaming liquid.
Hook took a small pitcher off the tray. "Milk?" he asked.
"Oh, yes please," Cotton answered. Something bad was on the horizon, she could feel it.
The captain of the Jolly Roger poured in some milk and stirred it up, giving it that burned toffee colour. He grabbed a bowl full with yellow slices. "Would you like some lemon with that as well?"
"I'm actually quite partial to lemon," Cotton said. "Sure."
Hook took a half slice and squeeze it over the cup, squirting some juice into the hot drink, followed by more stirring. Another pitcher landed before them. "Honey?"
Milk good. Lemon good. Honey… not so good. "No thanks," the white fairy answered.
"What's the matter?" Hook asked, the pitcher full of honey still in hand. "You don't like honey?"
"Actually, honey is forbidden back home."
Hook appeared shocked. "Why ever would they do such a thing as that?"
"Well, it's because—"
The pitcher tilted over the cup and a strand of liquid gold oozed out. "You have no idea what you're missing." He stirred the tea more, mixing the honey in with the milk, lemon and hot leaves.
Cotton started to sweat. The big cup before her started out wonderful, but slowly began to take the shape of a terrifying monster, not literally, but figuratively speaking. There was something in it that chilled her kind to the bone, which brought terrible nightmares and sparked the darkest fears.
Hook set the honey pitcher back down. "Oh, how could I almost forget?" He clutched something else, another bowl. "What is a lovely cup of tea without…?" He set the bowl down beside the cup.
Cotton saw the bowl and instantly wanted to cry. "No! No!" she screamed. "Not the sugar! Not the sugar! Anything but the sugar!"
Sugar: a tooth pixies worst nightmare. The bowl was full of it, a granulated mountain of sweetness piled up high.
Hook took the spoon and dug into the mountain of sugar, getting a generous spoonful. "Would you like…" He poured it into the cup. "One teaspoon?"
Cotton gripped handfuls of her hair. "No! Think of the cavities!"
Hook could barely contain his excitement. "Two teaspoons?" Another scoop was shovelled in.
"That poor enamel won't stand a chance! All that tooth decay! All that plaque! Bacteria! Germs!"
"Not sweet enough for you? How about a third?"
"All those calories! You're going to get so fat and have horrible teeth, you fiend!"
The sugar would not stop. A fourth spoonful. A fifth spoonful. A sixth. Seventh, eighth and ninth. Hook chuckled away with every scoop, watching something so simple drive the fairy to the brink of a mental breakdown. His own crew watched from the side-lines, less horrified and more puzzled by the spectacle. They could not for the life of them figure out what was wrong with Cotton, why she was freaking out over granulated sugar? When James Hook was done, islands of sugar span on the tea's surface.
Captain Hook edged the cup closer and closer to the mortified tooth pixie. "Time to drink up, my annoying pest for a guest," he said.
Cotton thrashed against the strings of the net, fighting to escape. "I don't want it, I don't want it!"
Hook's grin expanded further, showing his teeth. "Methinks I want you to stay. I'll give you all the sugar you could ever want."
"I'll tell you everything," sobbed Cotton, tears forming. "I'll take you home! I'll show you where Ivory City is! I'll show you where the doubloons come from!"
Hook stopped and gently placed the cup down on the table. "Which way then?"
Shaking, Cotton raised her hand and pointed to the left, across the Neversea. "Start by going that way... when we get far enough, I'll let you know…"
"You better." Captain Hook lifted himself off of the stool. "You heard her, boys," he bellowed. "Hoist the anchor and set sail, we're going to Ivory City!"
Mr Smee, Sharky and Bones shifted into gear, opening the sails and pulling the anchor up from the bottom of the sea. The Jolly Roger spurned to life, an early riser ol' Roger was. The ship veered to the left and sliced through the waves.
Captain Hook's heart raced with anticipation. Yesterday, he was but an empty-handed pirate captain with only a ship and a sparse crew to his name. By sunrise, he will hold wealth greater than anything ever imagined.